


tick tock goes the clock

by shell-heads (chocopies)



Series: Cap/IM Bingo [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Established Relationship, Fight Scene, M/M, Tony Stark the Badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 21:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocopies/pseuds/shell-heads
Summary: Tony might not be an ex-Soviet spy like Natasha or an experienced Army brat like Sam or Rhodey, but he's grown up his entire life with people who want his money and power, thank you very much. A good time growing up was one or two kidnappings a month instead of five, and by the twentieth time he blew his enemies sky high at the age of seven without any help from his parents, people started to think twice about coming for him. Thirty years later and married to an extremely fit and capable government spy, Tony's had his fair share of fights and knows all the signs.“Hey, sweetheart,” Tony says apologetically on the phone as his eyes slide to the left to catch sight of the red cap tagging doggedly behind him, “I’m gonna be a little late to our date tonight, sorry.”“I thought you were on your way back?” Steve’s voice responds distractedly in confusion as he tries to keep the phone by his ears. “Run into any trouble?”“Always. I promise to finish up as soon as I can, pumpkin-you just keep dinner nice and warm, and I’ll be back before you know it.”Leave it to crime to ruin his first date night with his husband in a month.





	tick tock goes the clock

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fill for the action/adventure card on my stony bingo! i'm awful at writing action and adventure so this is really the best i could do, but i ADORE the self-competence and utter badass that just LEAKS out of our fav genius boy's pores, and i figured if i was going to write about anything, it might as well be how fricking a w e s o m e he is even without his suits and the others to fight with him!!!! 
> 
> this au takes place in a world where there's no superheroes but SHIELD does exist, in this world a secret government agency with operations similar to the actual SHIELD without all the superscience and supermagic going on, and steve is their best agent!!! tony's still been kidnapped and escaped himself, but he didn't make the suit and he works as a regular billionaire genius philanthropist, only married to the guy who found him in the desert all those years ago with rhodey when shield realized a terrorist organization was trying to torture/convert tony stark to their wicked, evil ways and sent steve to help retrieve him

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tony says apologetically on the phone as his eyes slide to the left to catch sight of the red cap tagging doggedly behind him, “I’m gonna be a little late to our date tonight, sorry.”

“I thought you were on your way back?” Steve’s voice responds distractedly in confusion as he tries to keep the phone by his ears with his hands full of lasagna, setting the dish down on the dining table before turning his full attention to Tony again. “Run into any trouble?”

“Always,” Tony answers with a laugh, making a sharp left and watching as his stalkers doggedly follow his steps. “I promise to finish up as soon as I can, pumpkin-you just keep dinner nice and warm, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

"I don’t know, this lasagna looks good enough to eat all by myself,” Steve teases, smile growing at the fond laugh it earns him and reaching for foil to rewrap their dinner and put it back in the oven. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’ve got to finish the soup anyways, so you’ve got some time.”

“Sure thing,” Tony says softly, his eyes closing for a moment to appreciate the sound of Steve’s smile obvious even through the phone as he walks further into the secluded alleyways of New York. “I’m looking forward to your first try at _real_ Italian food. See you soon, babe.”

“I promise not to disappoint the ghost of your great-aunt Sofia,” Steve grins, the corners unashamedly soft with affection. “Love you!”

“Love you too,” Tony sing-songs with an exaggerated kiss, hanging up and eyeing the next turn critically before making another left to avoid the neighborhood on his right, unbuttoning his suit jacket before he follows the street down to a dead end and turns around.

“Alright,” he calls out cheerfully, holding in a snigger as his stalker flinches in the shadows and the other one reaches for the gun he’d shoddily hid underneath his clothes from farther behind. “Come on out, fellas, I want to get this over with as soon as possible. I have a hot date tonight, and I don’t like keeping him waiting.”

“You’re always so confident, Stark,” the one closer to him growls, trying to cover up his ineptitude with an overwhelming wash of bravado, Tony rolling his eyes and waiting for Tweedle-Dee to get through his stupid rant while the other one follows. “You think you’re so _great_ , don’t you?

“Yup,” Tony mutters under his breath, growing impatient as they close in with the slowest pace possible, “I’m the greatest.”

“You’re nothing without your father’s work, you know,” Tweedle-Dum adds snidely, one hand still on the gun underneath his shirt and drawing the barest of Tony’s attention from how unbelievably boring this all is. “We all know you only came this far because he was _stupid_ enough to leave everything behind to someone who could never be half as intelligent as he was.”

“Oh my god, are you his _fans_?” Tony asks with wide eyes, gagging in disgust at the thought of someone idolizing his father and desperately searching for a sign in their faces to suggest he could be wrong.

“We’re people who are better than you,” Tweedle-Dee seethes, pulling a knife out of his pocket and causing Tony to raise his brows. A knife _and_ a gun? Somebody was feeling real down in the dumps today. “People you _stole_ from; it should be _us_ sitting where you are right now, millions of dollars of funding at our feet and the ability to do whatever we want.”

“I’m sure you’re _very_ gifted,” Tony reassures him not at all genuinely, only two minutes in and already done with this whole schtick. “What do you want with me-money? Power? My tech?”

“All of it,” Tweedle-Dee hisses as he lunges with the knife, Tony throwing his arms high in praise for some goddamn _action_ and grabbing his wrist to direct the knife into the air and elbows him right in the solar plexus, knocking his breath away. Grip loosening on the knife from the lack of air through his pain, the knife clatters to the floor, Tony kicking his heel backwards to knock it out of reach.

Waiting a half-second to gauge whether or not his attacker is weak enough that the first hit took care of him, Tony decides it’s better to be thorough and make this fast as possible so he can hurry and go home to Steve; fast as a whip, his right foot reaches out and sweeps Tweedle-Dee’s feet from under him just as Tweedle-Dum makes his move.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Tony grunts with his eyes on the gun, stepping over Tweedle-Dee swiftly and coming face-to-face with him in an instant, a hard palm shoving itself into the meat on the inside of Tweedle-Dum’s elbow, the gun falling to the floor and thankfully not going off while Tony knees his stomach and lands a blow to the top of his head in quick succession.

Brushing stray dirt off his suit and standing up straight, Tony pulls out his phone to call Happy and searches the little pests’ pockets to make sure they don’t have anything dangerous on them and perhaps even something he can use to tie them up until someone else comes to process them.

“Hey, Hap, I got a job for you,” Tony begins with a hand pulling the rope they had stowed away in their jackets, pausing to let Happy moan and groan about his struggle with Mr. McElroy and his inability to wear a security badge or follow protocol while making understanding noises at the appropriate time, toe reaching out to reveal Tweedle-Dum’s face and make sure he’s still out for the count.

“I know, buddy, I’ll make sure someone has a talk with him tomorrow. No, of course not, I know how hard you work,” Tony soothes delicately, “I just need you to help me out a little bit, alright? I have a date with Steve in an hour, and I wanted to surprise him with some cannoli from Giovanni’s-I ran into some idiots by 45th and I don’t really have the _time_ to sit with the cops and do the whole Spanish Inquisition thing, so I was wondering if you could have someone come over and take care of it for me?”

Smile spreading across his face as Happy yells at him in between angrily stating he’ll come take care of it _himself_ , Tony sends him his location and starts figuring out the fastest way to get to Giovanni’s on foot and back to home as quickly as possible and hangs up after a grateful, “You’re the best, Hap, remind me to raise your pay.”

There’s a loud rush of footsteps, and Tony sighs as a group of six comes through the alley in a swarm of black hoodies and shades, obviously related to the two disasters eating dirt at Tony’s feet.

“I told them to _wait_ ,” the one in front grates out, fists clenched as he observes Tony’s work, one beside him using insults he’s only ever heard come out of Bucky’s mouth on a real bad day. 

“Language,” Tony scolds automatically, thinking of his back-and-forth with Steve and trying not to smirk too obviously as the entire group startles visibly, flinching backwards and looking to their supposed leader for direction.

“There’s nothing we can do now,” the first one tells them tersely, another nodding beside him. “He can’t take all of us-get him!”

“Why do they always _do_ this?” Tony asks himself wearily before ducking as one comes his way, taking a moment to appreciate his talent for attracting annoyances when he least desires as the one who came for him first makes a swift turn; ducking again, he lets him sock one of his friends and stumble down together.

Checking his watch to see what time it is, Tony sighs and makes sure to kick the gun from Tweedle-Dum far, _far_ away from the goons to save himself any future trouble, one hand moving quickly to grab another oncomer by his forearm and twist harshly, his groan echoing loudly as he’s flipped head over heels onto the growing pile of people lying about the floor.

“Come on, let’s make this fast,” Tony urges them impatiently, stepping down _hard_ on one of the men who tries to stagger back up again and kicking him onto the others forcefully. Deciding to be aggressive to get this over with in time, Tony weaves through their party to take care of the only other one concealing a weapon underneath his clothes, the shape easily distinguishable to his practiced eyes; there’s a well-placed _thump_ of his fists against the temple and a nerve before he slips the man’s knife out of his pants and sending it flying deep into the drying concrete twenty feet away.

“What do you know,” Tony muses in pleasant surprise with a step to the right to avoid the idiots trying to corner him, “Nat’s lesson actually payed off.”

“Shut up,” Goon #4 yells, throwing himself at Tony with the kind of abandon he hasn’t seen from random strangers since he married Steve.

“I’m flattered, but I’m taken,” Tony quips with an easy lift of the man’s legs from underneath him to shove him into Goon #5, knocking their heads together and delivering a brisk kick from above to make them see stars.

Throwing Groon #3 over his shoulder again when he comes stumbling back at Tony from his short-lived stay on the dirty street floor, Tony loosens a kink in one of his shoulders and steps forward to take care of the last one standing, the one coward in every organization who hung back until there was no one else left to fight except him.

“You have one minute,” Tony informs him, a pleased smile spreading across his face at the immediate twitch of anger on his paltry opponent’s face, goading him into coming at him without all the stupid fear dragging this on into some kind of pathetic showdown.

No _wonder_ Steve couldn’t stand being a normal cop when it was so tedious and boring compared to SHIELD.

“My husband thanks you,” Tony says gratefully when the goon gets closer and actually attempts a fistfight, his speed and position decent enough to deal with people who aren’t Tony Stark.

Moving his head alone to weave through the punches, Tony gets in a solid hit to the stomach and forces his other palm to push at the goon’s airway and leave him choking for breath, elbowing a pressure point on his spine just as a car pulls up across the alley, Happy stepping out in a huff and running up to him with a red face.

" _Unbelievable_ ,” Happy says heatedly, gesturing to the mess all over the street and shaking his head. “You couldn’t wait? Call someone? Ask for one of your million security employees to help with this?”

“I’m late for dinner,” Tony answers in defense, grinning when Happy shakes his head even more exasperatedly before waving him off.

“You-just leave, would ya? It’s gonna be hard enough dealing with them when you’re not around, and I’m sick and tired of having to chase Burt off your tail.”

“I told you to pay him off,” Tony throws out, stepping back automatically at the fire in Happy’s eyes when he splutters in shock at the audacity of Tony’s reply, “Sorry! Thanks, Happy-you’re the best, I’ll give you a nice raise, _seeyoutomorrow._ ”

Hurrying off so he can’t cause another medical problem that sends Happy to the hospital, Tony breaks into a run and thanks his lucky stars that Giovanni’s isn’t too far, making it within three minutes at a brisk jog and smiling widely at the sight of Elena waiting outside the store with a familiar paper bag in hand.

“Happy called us a couple minutes ago,” she greets, her eyes dancing as she holds out the bag for him and leans forward conspiratorially. “We threw in some spumoni too, so make sure you eat both of them.”

“You’re an _angel,_  Elena,” Tony swear fervently, kissing her cheek in gratitude before waving at Giovanni from the window and reaching for his wallet.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Elena tuts, shaking her fingers at him like a naughty little child, “on the house. Papà still hasn’t forgiven you for paying Antonio’s hospital bill.”

“No one ever said it was me,” Tony argues with an impish grin, laughing at the pinch of his cheeks that remark earns him.

“Anonymous _mio culo_ ,” she says with a fond snap of her teeth, patting his cheek gently before sending him off. “Go, go! Have a nice dinner with your husband. Give him my love.”

“ _Sei incredibile!_ ” Tony yells as he runs off with the desserts secure in the bag, winding his way through the heavy Manhattan crowds filling the streets and choosing to duck through shortcuts anytime a light stops at red.

Panting for breath as he makes his way to their apartment building, Tony finally slows down two miles later and loosens his hold on the dessert, nodding at the security guard stationed at the front desk and stepping into the elevator with relief. Setting the bag down on the floor carefully, Tony takes a minute to fix his sweaty hair and straighten out his wrinkling suit, redoing his cufflinks before studying himself and deeming his appearance decent.

Steve always did like him a little sweaty anyways.

Reaching the top floor and making his way to the door at the very end, Tony leans against the doorway and knocks with a peppy beat, calling out, “Delivery for Steve Rogers!”

Beaming at the sound of Steve’s laugh and feeling his heart do a happy little twist, Tony waits while footsteps lead to the door and open it, bright eyes and an even brighter smile shining down at him.

“And what kind of delivery is this?” Steve hums, eyes crinkling at the corners from the sheer warmth on Tony’s face when he leans up to steal a sweet, lingering kiss that feels like coming home.

“A Tony Stark Special,” Tony murmurs in reply, feeling Steve’s smile wide and soft against his own. “Wanna see what it is?”

“Boy, do I,” Steve murmurs back, hands falling to Tony’s hips and drawing him into the apartment with another kiss, the door closing with a resounding click into the empty hallway of the apartment building.

Everything else can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh if this didn't make u cringe and u actually maybe!!!!! enjoyed this or didn't hate it then i'm super fricking glad and i'm up to screaming stony with any and all of u on tumblr [@shell-heads](https://shell-heads.tumblr.com)!!!!!!! have a good night or morning y'all ♡♡♡


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